


the iron queens

by Elizabeth Culmer (edenfalling)



Series: Wherein Liz Entertains Various Thoughts about the Problem of Susan [10]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: 3 Sentence Ficathon, 3 Sentence Fiction, Bargaining, Ethics, F/F, Gen, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Pomegranates, Post-Book: The Last Battle (Narnia), Prompt Fic, Theology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:30:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8777728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Culmer
Summary: In the cold and dark of Narnia after the end, Susan offers Jadis a bargain. (A three-sentence ficlet.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written 12/4/16 for [silvr_dagger](http://silvr_dagger.livejournal.com), in response to the prompt: [Narnia, Jadis/Susan, pomegranates](http://caramelsilver.livejournal.com/151259.html?thread=5259739#t5259739).

A light kindled, impossibly, in the eternal cold and dark of Narnia after the end, and the tattered remnants of she who had once been Jadis (for no witch ever truly dies, especially not one who has tasted the apple of immortality, and the Lion had known this when he shut the stable door) drifted toward the blue-white fire, compelled by the circle and the ancient rite she herself had carved into the flesh of this world at its birth; " _You_ ," she snarled as she coalesced, and saw the shape of her summoner.

"Me," agreed Susan Pevensie, who had dared to steal Jadis's throne and think herself a queen, standing untouched by the killing cold despite the sheerness of her silk dress; "I have come under my own power and in my own name, not that of the Lion, to offer you a chance at redemption -- for those who turn away from warmth and light need not be cast forever into darkness, nor do I think love of the Lion a necessity to love of life or the ability to be and do good in the world -- and therefore I have brought a taste of summer to break the walls of this your prison and offer you a thread you may grasp to follow me back into the myriad worlds," she said, and her hands, when she held them out across the bounds of her protective circle, were filled with a red like blood, or rubies, but this fruit was no apple with its all-or-nothing absolutes: a pomegranate, rather, which spoke of bargains and balance, a personal interest on the part of the one who offered to the one who ate, and perhaps even the chance at a throne shared rather than claimed by force and held armed against all comers; Jadis had dreamed of such impossibilities once.

The juice of the apple had been bitter as gall and cool as the first snow of winter; this, bursting slow and rich across Jadis's tongue, solidifying her body with its memory of summer sun and flower-laden winds, was sweet.


End file.
